Act Your Age
by Phoenix on cloud nine
Summary: Physically or mentally? 'Cause Shawn got hit in the head and now can't remember anything past 1982. And thinks he's 5. ABANDONED.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys :) So, I'm taking a bit of a risk with this one; I hope you all enjoy it anyways – and obviously Shawn will be OOC :P Well, I'm hoping he seems like he does in the flashbacks, but younger ;) And yes, I know I already have my NCIS fic on the go as well, but I've lost my plot bunny for a moment, so I thought I'd use this one for a while :)**

1982

"Shawn – come over here."

Five year old Shawn Spencer looked over to the front door, where his dad was grabbing a jacket.

"Are we going to the park?" He asked excitedly, bouncing over.

"Not exactly," Henry replied, pulling a jacket onto his son. "Let's just get this on you – your mom'll kill me if you get a cold," it was October, and very chilly for a Santa Barbara afternoon.

"Are we getting ice cream?" Shawn asked, holding his dad's hand as they left the house.

"Nope," they crossed the road and walked through a park.

"Can I play in the – " Shawn began, before Henry cut him off.

"Nope – pay attention, Shawn," Henry knelt before him. "You're old enough now to start training."

"For what?"

"So you can become a cop, just like your old man," Henry told him. "Sure we did the memory games when you were little, but it's time to up it now – I want you to focus, and as we walk through this park, I want you to remember every single hat we see."

"Why?" Shawn asked, confused.

"So you can not only become a cop, but you can be a good one," his dad replied. "Ready?"

Shawn looked ready to cry at the unfairness of not being allowed to do anything fun at the park, but nodded and grimly and started looking around, trying to memorise everything.

Present

"Spencer, just because I agreed to you coming with us does _not _mean that you get to sit in the back and _talk _to me," Lassiter ground out, his fingers twitching as he desperately wanted to either wrap them around their 'psychic's neck or the butt of his gun.

"Aw, Lassie – that's the thanks I get after leading you here?" Shawn frowned from the back seat. "I could've kept my visions to myself, but I brought you here out of a fit of civil duty!"

Juliet rolled her eyes from where she was sat in the passenger seat in Lassiter's car. They were staking out a warehouse that Shawn had indeed led them to, hoping to find the leader of a ring of drug dealers. Shawn had called them in the middle of the night, and had been waiting for them at the police station, annoying Carlton until he had agreed to letting Shawn drive with them – they did, after all, need his instructions to take them to the right warehouse.

However, Juliet could see that Lassiter was ruing this decision. She could practically hear the grinding of his teeth.

"Spencer – the _only _reason you are here, is – " Lassiter paused, seeing movement from inside the warehouse. "O'Hara," he muttered, and both detectives slid out of the car in one fluid motion.

"Shawn, stay in the car," Juliet whispered, before crouching slightly and following Lassiter, her weapon drawn.

Shawn sighed and slid down in the seat dramatically. He started looking round, amusing himself by imagining crimes that could have occurred there by glancing at any rubbish or marks in the alleyway the car was stationed in. He spotted some thin wire, and was just thinking that maybe someone had been garrotted, when a gleam caught his eye near the entrance of the warehouse.

_Trip wire_, he thought, and leapt out of the car.

"Lassie! Jules!"

Lassiter whipped around. "Spencer," he hissed, "go back to the car."

"Stop moving!" He yelled, causing Juliet to freeze. "There's a trip wire at the door!"

Juliet looked down in alarm and backed away a few feet. Lassiter too looked down, and swore quietly. "I doubt there's anyone in there," he growled. "And even if there had been, they'll be long gone after hearing _someone _yelling at the top of his voice."

"I saved your life!" Shawn argued, stepping back in case Lassie got annoyed enough to push him through the wire.

"Just be quiet and go back to the car, Spencer," Lassiter ordered, examining the wire. "It doesn't look like it could be tripped by me opening the door," he said to himself, and cautiously pushed himself upright from where he had crouched to examine it.

"You want to go in now or should I call the bomb squad?" Juliet asked breathlessly.

"I've got this, O'Hara," Carlton told her, slowly pushing the door open. Shawn watched from behind his hands, his fingers fanned out so he could quickly prevent himself from seeing if he wanted to.

All three held their breaths, but after five seconds and no explosion, Shawn looked properly. The door was wide open, and the trip wire still in place. Lassiter carefully walked over it, followed by Juliet. Shawn pondered for a second before jumping over it as well, creeping behind the two detectives. "O'Hara," Lassiter whispered. "Do you see anything on your end?" Both of them were looking different ways.

"It all seems clear," she replied, and they stood there, with Lassiter looking both bored and furious.

"You get me here in the middle of the night and there isn't even anyone here?" He spat out at Shawn.

"Hey, ease off, Lassie!" Shawn held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Does the trip wire not mean anything?"

"It's probably a fake," Lassiter argued.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you, Detective," a voice said from the shadows. "Pity you got here earlier than I thought you would. Was almost finished packing," a man stepped out into the light cast by the moon outside and grinned at them, holding a suitcase in one hand, and a gun in the other.

"You're in charge of this?" Lassiter growled, holding his gun out in front of him.

"Unfortunately yes," the man replied. "I was going to leave and watch you all blow up so you wouldn't see my face – that backfired, didn't it?"

Shawn watched avidly. Lassie seemed to be in a kind of western standoff with this guy, and thought quickly to try and do something. Looking around, his keen eye spotted several small bombs around the room that would no doubt be tripped by the wire. He grinned slightly as he saw there was one directly above the drug dealer. If he could set them off, then the blast could be enough to knock the man unconscious. Before he did anything, he double checked for extras. He couldn't see any directly above or next to him or the detectives.

Making up his mind, as the man pointed his gun at Juliet, Shawn rooted around in his pocket and could only find his phone.

_Dad's going to kill me_, he winced, throwing his phone at the wire.

* * *

><p>The explosion rocked the room, as both Lassiter and Juliet instinctively threw themselves to the ground. A large piece of rock ceiling dislodged and fell to the ground, just missing the drug dealer. However, it pinned his leg, and he collapsed to the floor in agony.<p>

After numerous crumbling walls had stopped moving, Juliet and Carlton glanced up. "Spencer!" Lassiter yelled. "Why did you do that? You could have killed us all!" He rounded on the psychic, only to find he was crumpled on the floor, a sizeable chunk of ceiling next to his head. That, along with his pale face, the bruise on his forehead and the dripping blood made Lassiter stop in his tracks. "O'Hara we need an ambulance right now!" He told her. He looked over to see her stood there, her hand over her mouth in shock. "Juliet," he said seriously.

She shook her head. "Right, I'll call it."

Carlton checked Shawn over and couldn't find any other injuries. He tried to shake the other man into consciousness but wasn't having any luck. "Spencer," he said softly. "If you don't wake up your father'll kill me," he told him.

"'M Dad?" Shawn mumbled quietly. He hadn't exactly roused; it seemed more like he was talking in his sleep than anything.

"They're here!" Juliet exclaimed, leading them carefully through the wreckage. "A bus was already close to us – someone reported the explosion; and I called for backup," Lassiter nodded and stepped back as the medics assessed Shawn. He took this time to stand by the drug dealer who had caused this, who at that moment was whimpering in pain.

"My leg…" he groaned, clutching at said appendage.

Lassiter smirked and got out his handcuffs, dangling them in front of the injured man. "I can't wait to slap these on you."

"Carlton!" Juliet called. "They're taking him in now – do you want to process the scene or go with him?"

"We'll stay here," Lassiter told her, "and wait for backup."

* * *

><p>"How could you let my son go into there?" Henry raged at both Juliet and Carlton as they arrived at the hospital. "You said you saw the trip wire – why did you let him go with you?"<p>

"I told him to wait in the car," Lassiter argued. "Besides, he was the one who told us about the wire," he didn't look very happy to be relaying this information.

Henry did a double take. "He saw it? And he still went it," this wasn't a question; he sounded more exasperated than angry.

"How is he?" Juliet asked.

"Unconscious," Henry replied, walking them into Shawn's room. "The doctors think he'll wake up soon though."

Gus was sat next to the bed, looking more worried than usual (Lassiter only ever saw him when he was with Spencer, so it stood to reason he always looked worried). He looked up as they walked in. "He's been moving a bit more," he told Henry. "The doctor said that might mean he'll wake up any time now."

All four of them looked at Shawn, as if he would wake up there and then. Apart from some vague mumbling that they didn't understand and his hands and head occasionally twitching, he stayed silent and still. Henry sighed and went to sit on a chair next to the bed.

"We might be here for a while," he said to the two detectives. "If you want to stay they have more chairs at the nurses' station."

After half an hour, Shawn's eyes opened blearily.

"Shawn?" Henry said, pressing the call button for the doctor.

"Dad?" He mumbled, looking confused. "What happened to your hair?"

"Very funny," he grumbled, already annoyed at his son and he had only been conscious for three seconds.

The doctor strode into the room. "Shawn," she said, smiling. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts," he whimpered, causing Gus to frown. He'd never heard Shawn _whimper _before.

"We can't give you much for it because it's a head wound, but I'm confident that you'll be up and out of here tomorrow."  
>"Tomorrow?" He whined.<p>

"I'd like to keep you in for observation overnight," she told him, still smiling.

"Can my mom stay?" He asked worriedly.

Henry frowned, giving the doctor a concerned look. "Shawn?"

"Where is she?" He asked, looking around slowly. "And who are all these people?"

"You don't recognise them, Shawn?" The doctor asked, scribbling something down on a clipboard. "What about him?" She pointed to Henry.

"That's my dad," he told her easily.

"Good – what about him?" She now pointed to Gus, knowing they had been friends for years.

"Not really," he said slowly, squinting at him. "Although he kinda looks like one of my friends."

"I _am _your friend, Shawn," Gus told him earnestly, not missing the worried looks Juliet and Henry had on their faces.

"I don't know you…" Shawn whispered, wondering if he'd done something wrong. "But if my friend Gus was old, I think he'd look like you."

"What?" Both Henry and Gus exclaimed.

"How do you mean 'old', Shawn?" The doctor asked, looking too intrigued in Henry's opinion. "How old are you?"

"Why?"

"Answer the question, Shawn," Henry told him, looking at him in worry.

"Five," he answered, not noticing the gasp made by Juliet or the looks on everyone else's faces.

"I see," the doctor said. "Shawn, I'm going to call one of my colleagues in here to talk to you – is that okay?"

Shawn looked over at Henry, who was still sitting there in shock. "I guess."

She nodded at him and left. An awkward, stunned silence filled the room. "Dad?" Shawn said quietly. "Dad, are – are you mad at me?"

Henry looked at him, managing to say something after Juliet elbowed him in the back. "No, Shawn, no I'm not."

"Why am I in the hospital?" He asked, still keeping a quiet tone in case one of the 'adults' _was _mad at him.

"You don't remember?" Gus asked quickly, scared of what the hit on the head had done to his best friend' brain.

Shawn looked at him weirdly; obviously still wondering why there were so many strangers in his room. "I just remember getting hit on the head. It really hurts," he winced and went to rub at the sore part, before having his hand taken away softly by Juliet.

"Touching it will make it hurt more," she told him.

"Okay," he whispered, looking down at his knees in sadness. Where was his mom? And why was dad acting so strange?

Unable to stand the silence, Juliet put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm Juliet O'Hara – I'm a detective with the SBPD."

"So you work with my dad?" He asked, trusting her – dad always said to trust cops.

"Uh," she looked at Henry, wondering what to say. "Sometimes," that seemed a safe answer.

"Hi, Miss O'Hara," he said politely, with a quick look at Henry to make sure his dad saw this exhibition of manners.

"You can call me Juliet," she told him, already slightly in love with this quieter, more polite version of Shawn. "Or you can just call me Jules," she added, knowing she would miss the nickname if it wasn't used.

"Okay," he beamed at her.

After getting elbowed by Juliet (who seemed to be doing this a lot), Lassiter spoke: "I'm Head Detective Carlton Lassiter," he said, drawing himself up to an impressive height. "You can call me Detective Lassiter. Clear?"

"Uh, sure," Shawn said, wary of the tall, slightly scary cop.

"Or Lassie," Gus chipped in, making Shawn turn around to face his friend.

"Like the dog?" Shawn asked, confused.

"Yeah, it's his name shortened," Gus told him, smiling.

"Guster!" Lassiter growled. He hated that name.

"That's my friend Gus's name too!" Shawn said excitedly.

"Yeah – you can call me Gus too," it felt odd, introducing himself to his best friend.

"Okay," Shawn replied happily, feeling much more at ease with Gus than Lassiter.

At that moment, a new doctor walked into the room. "Hello," he beamed at Shawn. "I'm Doctor Harvey; your other doctor said you got hit on the head?"

"Yeah," Shawn replied nervously. "But I don't remember it."

"That's alright," Dr Harvey soothed him. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"1982," Shawn replied, fidgeting in the bed.

"I see," the doctor said, scratching at his head with his pen. "Mr. Spencer, can I see you outside?" Henry nodded and got up to follow.

"Dad?" He froze. Very rarely had he heard Shawn sound like that. Whining yes, but this wasn't a whine. It sounded pleading, worried. He sounded scared.

"I'll be right outside, Shawn," he told his son, still feeling odd to talk to him in such a gentle voice.

"Do you want to hear about some of the cases we do, Shawn?" Juliet asked him softly, to get his mind off being left in a roomful of 'strangers'.

"Okay," he replied quietly, shuffling up in bed a bit more to look at her.

Outside, Dr Harvey was talking to Henry. "Mr. Spencer, it seems that Shawn is suffering from post-traumatic amnesia – although usually this is just forgetting what happened just before and after an accident, it seems Shawn is missing about 25 years."

"Obviously!" Henry snarled at the doctor. "What do we do?"

"Well this is a very rare case; although there are those who would want to study him; write a paper, I'm happy to say I'm not one of those psychologists. Although overnight observation is good, I would say you should take him home, and try to show him things that would trigger memories."

"How long is this going to last?" Henry asked, glancing into the room to see Shawn giggling quietly at something Juliet had just said.

"It's impossible to tell. I'd like to do some scans to make sure there is no significant brain trauma, but after that you can take him home tomorrow."

"You're not answering my questions!" Henry hissed. "Is he ever going to remember the last 25 years of his life?"

"I think it's likely," Dr Harvey replied shortly.

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?" He asked. "Do we tell him he's not really five?"

"I wouldn't," the doctor advised. "It could do more harm than good. Treat him like you did when he was actually five; if there is no change at all in about a week come back to the hospital and we'll rethink."

"How will I know if there is actually any change?" Henry asked.

"It could manifest itself as anything," Dr Harvey replied. "He could say something that he would only understand as an adult, he could have dreams about what has happened in his life; his motor skills will probably be the same as they had been when he was five, so if they start to improve then I have faith that he will remember."

Henry sighed but nodded, looking at his son. He should probably call his mother and tell her. But then she'd probably insist on staying until he was better. However much he still cared for her, Henry didn't want to live with her again – he knew they would just get into more fights.

"I'll check on him before you leave tomorrow; be sure to take him somewhere familiar – you can take him for a while, I presume?"

"Yes," Henry replied, not even pausing to think about it.

"Good," Dr Harvey nodded. "In that case, I will see you tomorrow," he strode away. Henry wasn't sure whether he liked that man or not. It was good that he wasn't exploiting Shawn, but he did seem more interested in how Shawn's brain worked than if he was going to recover.

He stepped back into the hospital room. "Dad, Jules said that when I'm better I can come visit at the station," he beamed at this.

"We'll see," he muttered, still thinking about what the doctor had said.

"I called the chief and told her what happened," Lassiter said. "She wanted to know what had actually gone down in that warehouse."

"Did you tell her about… Shawn's injuries?" Henry asked carefully.

"Yeah – she's quite interested," Lassiter looked disgusted, as if he didn't see how anyone could be interested in a mentally-regressed Shawn Spencer. "I think she's letting the department know, so no one slips up if they talk to him."

Henry nodded. He had forgotten how popular Shawn was at the station. Of course people would try and talk to him.

"Dad – can I have some pineapple?" Shawn pleaded from his spot on the bed.

Henry couldn't help but snort. Clearly some things don't change.

**So, please tell me what you thought, and whether you think it's worth continuing :) I would like at least 6 or 7 reviews before I post another chapter, so if you read it and liked it, **_**please **_**review :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow you guys :D Thanks so much for all the reviews, I'm glad you think this is worth continuing, as I am heavily enjoying writing it ^_^ And yes; I will stop holding updates to ransom ;) I just get a bit annoyed when I see it's had about 40 hits but only a couple of reviews :P But hey-ho, onto the next chapter :D I've taken a few liberties – I've upped the age of Chief Vick's daughter slightly :)**

Shawn was sat on his hospital bed, swinging his legs slightly. Gus had gone to his apartment and gotten him some clothes to wear – he had insisted on comfy clothes, so Gus had gotten some old jeans and a baggy sweatshirt, which hung off him slightly and made him look even younger. He was apparently incredibly pleased to be going home today, but was still confused at the absence of his mother. Every time Henry tried to ring, it just kept going straight to voicemail.

Shawn was also continually pointing out small details to his dad. Gus assumed that when he was five, that was when he was first taught to notice things like that, but it got incredibly annoying – not to mention it would make everyone very suspicious. Thankfully, Henry had told Shawn that he wouldn't be tested on anything until he was 'better', and that he shouldn't tell anyone he was training to notice small details. Henry had also told Gus that he had told the chief when they first started out that Shawn had become psychic when he was 18. They wouldn't expect a five year old to have any ideas about a murder investigation.

"Ready to go, kid?" Henry walked into the room having signed the papers to say he was to look after Shawn until he was better. After just over 12 hours, he had gotten used to Shawn's new behaviour and was slightly worried at how easy it was to remember how he used to talk to a five year old Shawn.

"Yeah – can we get ice cream on the way?" Shawn asked, getting off the bed. He was going to bounce off, but his head still hurt, as did his forehead, which had several small stitches across a cut made by the ceiling.

"You'll ruin your appetite," Henry told him, immediately wondering _why _he had said that.

"Please?"

_Nice try, kid_, Henry thought, smirking at the puppy-dog face Shawn was pulling. He had been known to get suckered into it when the kid was small, but now there was no way in hell that adult Shawn could get him with it.

"Fine – but you'll rot your teeth," he replied, kicking himself.

"Can I play with Gus when we go home?" Shawn asked. "I want to tell him about the _other _Gus I met yesterday."

"No, Shawn," Henry told him strictly.

"But _Mom _would let me!" Shawn whined, following his dad to his truck in the parking lot.

"Well your Mom's not here, is she Shawn?" Henry asked, climbing into the driver's side. He waited expectantly for Shawn to buckle in, but he just sat in the passenger seat and looked at his dad. It suddenly became obvious to Henry, remembering when Shawn had really been five. He climbed back out and round the side, hoping no one saw as he strapped his 30 year old son into his car.

"Where's Mom?" Shawn asked quietly. He looked down at his fingers as Henry started the engine.

"Working," he replied shortly. "She's out working. I'm sure she'll be home soon."

"But I want to talk to her," Shawn pouted.

"I'll try and call her tonight, okay?" He reasoned, realising for the hundredth time how weird it was to talk to Shawn like this.

"I liked those people we met yesterday," he remarked happily. "When can we go see them again? Jules said we could visit."

"Maybe tomorrow," Henry replied vaguely, pulling into their driveway. He was quite glad that he had never sold the house where his son had grown up. It would be easier for Shawn.

As soon as he was unstrapped from the car, Shawn bounded to the front of the house, waiting for Henry to unlock the door. Henry vaguely recalled this behaviour from 1982 – Shawn had been excited to get inside so he could run upstairs or wherever it was that his toys were that day. Henry bit his lip for a second before opening the door. How would his son react when his bedroom was completely different? It wasn't as if any of his five year old toys were still in there either, they had all been packed away in boxes. Now he really needed Maddy – she would know where they had put them.

"Shawn, before you go anywhere," Henry started, just before Shawn reached the foot of the stairs. His son turned slowly, as if it was painful not to be playing right now. "I'm going to call Detectives O'Hara and Lassiter round, and Gus as well," he noticed Shawn frowning. "What? I thought you liked them?"

Shawn fidgeted slightly. "I do," he protested. "But Detective Lassiter's… scary," Henry nearly laughed at what Shawn had said and his woe begotten face, but managed to pass it off as a cough.

"It'll be fine, kid," he said consolingly.

"Can I go play now?"

God, it was so weird hearing his son say that in his normal voice. He was about to say yes, but then remembered that Shawn's room was different to how a five year old Shawn remembered. "Shawn, we've uh… we've redecorated," he said desperately.

"What's 'redecorated' mean?" Shawn asked, looking deeply confused.

_What?_ Henry thought, then shook his head for the millionth time. _Five years old. Right. _"Your room looks different now," he replied simply.

"Why?"

"Just because, Shawn – now, are you going to leave me alone for a bit while I call our visitors round?" Wow. It didn't sound as harsh in his head. Normal Shawn wouldn't have cared – he'd have said something sarcastic and bounced off. Five year old Shawn looked deeply hurt, but he nodded and looked down at the ground as he climbed the stairs.

* * *

><p>A knock at the door signalled everyone's arrival, and soon they all piled in, standing in the kitchen. "Karen, I didn't know you were coming," Henry said in surprise as he saw the chief stood in front of him.<p>

"I wanted to see how Shawn was," she confessed. "And it all sounds very interesting."

"He's up in his room, I'll go get him," Henry said.

"No, it's fine – I'll go up," Gus volunteered, wanting to see how his best friend was. Henry looked surprised but nodded, offering people drinks as they made their way into the living room. Henry hoped that talking with his friends for a bit longer without the confines of hospital visiting hours might help Shawn's memory – that and the fact he didn't think he could sit in the house with it just being him and five year old Shawn for much longer.

"Is Shawn okay?" Juliet asked worriedly, as if Henry might have snapped and killed him.

"Fine – he hasn't been complaining of headaches, and he hasn't even been questioning that much about all the 'changes' in the house," Henry told her.

Upstairs, Gus had peered slowly around the slightly open door into Shawn's childhood bedroom. It was neat for the time being, as Shawn had only been in it for about twenty minutes, but given time, Gus was sure it would get incredibly messy very quickly. He saw Shawn sat inside, crouched next to his bed, apparently making a surface for some toy dinosaurs he had found to play with. Gus snickered as he heard Shawn making dinosaur noises before feeling a slight pang – five year old Shawn didn't know that he had discovered a dinosaur.

"Hey, Shawn," he said, opening the door fully.

"Gus!" He said happily, sounding so much like his normal self that Gus felt like yelling at him for playing a prank on them. "Come see my dinos!" Gus obligingly knelt down next to him and examined the plastic T-rex he was handed.

"That one's the coolest – I called him Zippy!" Shawn sounded very proud of himself, and so didn't notice Gus' small gasp and smile. "You can have Chompy – he's this one," he handed Gus a toy triceratops.

"Thanks," he said, looking down at the toy a little doubtfully. "Juliet, Lassiter and the Chief are downstairs – the wanted to see how you are."

"The Chief?" Shawn asked, standing up and grabbing a few more dinosaurs in his arms.

"Juliet's boss," he explained, realising that young Shawn was quite intimidated by Carlton and so didn't mention him, otherwise Shawn might be scared of Karen too.

"Do they like dinosaurs?" He asked, giving Gus two more before heading for the stairs.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "Why don't you ask them?"

As they both walked into the living room where the other four had been sat making quiet conversation, Henry stopped talking. He looked over to where Shawn was clutching his toy dinosaurs and frowned, forgetting ever buying them for his son. He could only remember feeling quite annoyed that Shawn had loved them way more than the police matchbox cars he had bought.

"Hey, Shawn," Juliet said happily, smiling at him. Unlike most of them, she remembered that Shawn was at that moment five years old, and talked to him appropriately. Her interactions with her nephews made this very easy for her. "Cool dinosaurs!"

"Want to see them?" He asked shyly, tipping some in her lap and kneeling in front of her. "That one," he stabbed a finger at his T-rex, "is called Zippy. 'N that one," he now pointed to a diplodocus, "is called Necky, 'n _that _one – " he was about to tell her the name of a stegosaurus when Lassiter felt the need to comment.

"The one you called 'Necky', Spencer," he said, trying to be as cool as he had been with Juliet's nephews, "is a diplodocus."

"The one that Gus is holding is – "

"Ah, a triceratops; one of the vegetarian dinosaurs."

"He's called Chompy," Shawn said, looking slightly confused. "And he eats people."

Lassiter snorted. "No he doesn't – they ate vegetation, he was a herbivore."

"Was _not!" _Shawn argued, his lip wobbling slightly.

"_Detective_," Karen used her sternest tone. It was obvious that Shawn really did think of himself as five, and she didn't see what making him cry would accomplish.

"I'm just telling him the facts about dinosaurs!" Lassiter defended himself, taking one of the dinosaurs. "See – this one is a Pterodactyl."

"It's called Birdy," Shawn informed him, tugging the toy away from Lassiter, who; sensing a challenge and almost seeming to be fighting for role of alpha male, tugged it back.

"Carlton!" Juliet cried out, scandalised.

"Spencer – stop… grabbing," Lassiter grunted out as Shawn practically threw himself on top of the detective in order to take back his toy.

"Shawn!" Henry finally got involved, moving in to break them apart.

"Dad, he won't give it back!" Shawn whined, and Henry knew if he didn't do something soon he would have a hysterical son on his hands.

"Lassiter; give it," he said in his firmest and most evil voice. Carlton growled but gave it back, going back to his original seat and grabbing the cup of coffee that had been brewed for him. Shawn reached for the toy but Henry moved it. "Uh-uh-uh, neither of you gets it," he told him seriously, putting it on top of the mantelpiece.

"But that's not fair!" Shawn argued, quickly scooping up the rest of them in case his dad took those away too.

"Shawn," Juliet said quickly. "How about we go play with these on the table instead?" Shawn hastily agreed and plonked his toys down on the kitchen table, grabbing Gus' wrist to make him take the ones he was holding over as well.

"What were you thinking, Carlton?" Karen hissed.

"I was just explaining the names," he defended himself, still nursing his bruised pride. "He seems to be even more annoying now than normal Spencer."

"Hey," Henry said dangerously. "That's my son. So what if he doesn't know the names of dinosaurs? Not all adults do either. How do you expect a five year old to listen?"

"Dad you said we'd get ice cream on the way back from the hospital!" Shawn yelled from the kitchen, in the middle of making Zippy rampage over the other dinosaurs and onto Juliet's head. She was being a very good sport, and sat still, giggling slightly as Gus made the other dinosaurs scream out in fear of the T-rex.

Henry rolled his eyes at Karen, who grinned. She was used to this type of behaviour – and not only from normal Shawn on occasional days - her daughter was fast approaching her fifth birthday. It seemed the only one in there who wasn't accustomed to his sort of behaviour was Lassiter. Henry and she were both parents, Juliet was an auntie and Gus – well, Gus had to put up with all sorts over the years with Shawn.

"I've got some in the freezer," he replied. "You might get some later, if you're good," it felt _so _strange to say that. The last time he had bribed his son to 'be good' with sweets had been about 15 years ago.

Shawn pouted at this but had to be content. However, he beamed brightly when Gus got out some paper. Apparently he needed to do some sort of paperwork – whether for Central Coast or Psych, Henry didn't know, but it was apparent that Shawn was hoping to be given some paper to draw on.

"Are you drawing?" Shawn asked his friend, leaning in to see what Gus was doing, dinosaurs lying forgotten on the table (And Juliet's head, which she had to reach up quickly to catch before it fell). "It doesn't look fun," Shawn frowned, looking at the boxes on the form that Gus was filling out.

"Would you like to draw?" Juliet asked smoothly, finding a pad of paper in a drawer in the kitchen and, after a quick look at Henry to make sure it was okay, put it in front of him.

"I have pens in my room!" Shawn remembered, and bounded up the stairs eagerly, hoping to find his coloured felt tips.

"Mr Spencer, if you _ever _need a babysitter," Juliet offered, "I'll do it – you never said he was so sweet as a kid!"

Henry snorted. "That's one word for it."

Shawn soon came back down the stairs with a large pack of pens. Henry just had time to wonder where he was finding these things, when Shawn shyly crept over. "Would you like to draw with us?" He asked Karen, who looked surprised, but she nodded and got up, following him to the kitchen table.

Soon Henry found that Juliet was immersed in her drawing, as was Shawn, and Karen was smiling at his son as she just aimlessly doodled, while Gus filled in his form. "Lassiter, aren't you going to join in?" Henry asked, smirking. Carlton frowned at him and growled slightly.

"He doesn't need to, Dad," Shawn chirped from the table. "My picture's of him!" He held it up proudly, and everyone peered in, before looking away, spluttering. In an all-too five year old style of drawing, there was a very tall man with an angry face and sharp teeth, foaming at the mouth and pulling the head off a dinosaur.

"Spencer!" Carlton yelled, apparently very unimpressed.

"You don't like it?" Shawn whimpered, his eyes growing bright as his bottom lip started to wobble alarmingly.

"I…" Carlton started to splutter, looking over at Juliet, who looked away, and Henry; who was looking very stern. "I think you can draw well," he ground out.

"You want to keep it?" Shawn asked, holding it out to him. As he quite clearly couldn't refuse without some sort of tantrum or being shot by Henry, Lassiter took it. "Dad, can we put my drawing on the fridge?" Shawn asked, pointing to another picture he'd drawn of Zippy. "Wait," he looked over at the fridge. "Where have all my other one's gone?" Everyone held their breath, waiting for Henry's answer.

"Your mom took them," he replied smoothly. "So she could think of you when she's at work."

Shawn beamed broadly but then frowned. "When can I talk to her? You promised I could."

"Later, Shawn – tonight," Henry pacified him, before walking over to the freezer. "You still want ice cream?"

"Silly question," Lassiter muttered, examining his picture. Shawn predictably said yes, and soon both he and Gus were eating ice creams. The other 'adults' left the kitchen to sit back in the living room, as the chief started telling Henry about a case they had, wondering if he could add anything to it.

"Uh, Mr Spencer?" Gus called from the kitchen. "You got any wet wipes?" Henry raised an eyebrow and peered around the corner, to see that Shawn had somehow managed to get chocolate ice cream all over his face.

"Under the sink, Gus," he replied, sinking back into his seat with a long-suffering sigh.

Karen smiled at him. "He's not changed that much," she told him.

"He's changed enough," he replied, running a hand down his face. "Damn doctors didn't even really explain much. He's supposed to go back for tests in a week if nothing's happened – but he still seems like a five year old to me."

"Give it time, Henry," Karen replied wisely. "You've been out of the hospital one day, and it's only half five in the evening – I'm sure he'll come back to us."

At that moment, just as Shawn and Gus walked back in – Shawn now ice cream free – Henry's phone rang. "Hello."

"_Henry?" _He winced as he recognised his ex-wife's voice. _"What was so important that you had to leave me 6 voicemails?"_

"Gus," he covered the phone for a second. "Take Shawn somewhere," Gus frowned but nodded, encouraging Shawn to go in the back yard with him. "Maddy," he said into the phone. "Where are you?"

"_Texas," _came the reply, _"what do you need?"_

"It's Shawn," he told her, as the three cops listened in. "He got hit in the head on a case, and – now the doctors aren't really sure why – but now he's – "

"_Is he in a coma?" _She asked fearfully.

"No, he's – "

"_Oh god, is he on a ventilator?"_

"He thinks he's five," there was a long pause at the other end of the phone. "Maddy?"

"_You're not joking, are you?"_

"No; he's got some kind of amnesia, and the last thing he remembers is 1982."

A pause, then: _"Is his head okay? And you are making sure he eats right? Vegetables and more fruit than just pineapple – is he staying with you? Are you making sure he gets enough sleep? Has he had a shower yet? Because you remember how he was when we tried to give him a bath, and –"_

"We're fine," he reassured her, hoping she couldn't smell the ice cream down the other line. "But ever since he woke up he's been asking for you. Will you talk to him?"

"_I'll come home."_

"There's no need – I can handle this!" He argued. "Will you just tell him you won't be home for a while?"

"_Henry," _she said seriously. _"Do the doctors know if he'll get better?"_

"They're hopeful," he responded slowly.

"_If he isn't better in a week I'm coming back," _she said resolutely, and Henry knew she couldn't be swayed.

"Will you please talk to your son now?" He asked her.

"_Of course!"_ She responded, and Juliet could imagine Madeleine wincing on the other end of the phone as Henry shouted for Shawn. He skidded inside with mud on the knees of his jeans. Henry gave Gus a look but didn't question it. Yet.

"Shawn, your mother wants to talk to you," he told his son, and couldn't help but smile at the way Shawn's eyes lit up.

He grabbed the phone off Henry. "Mom!"

"_Hey, Goose," _she said affectionately. _"How's my favourite guy?"_

"I'm good," he responded happily, and proceeded to talk at the speed of light about everything and anything; his dinosaurs, his different room, _new _Gus, how dad let him have ice cream…

"_That's great, sweetie," _she gently interrupted. _"Now, I need to go – are you going to be good for your dad?"_

He nodded, then remembered she couldn't see him, so he quickly verbalised his response. "Yep."

"_Good boy," _there was a pause, and then she continued. _"I might see you in a week."_

"A week?" Shawn whined. "But that's ages!"

"_I know, sweetie, but if you want, I'll call you every night, okay?"_

"I'd like that," he told her, smiling. He yawned slightly and said: "Bye, Mom."

"_Bye, honey – pass the phone to your dad, okay?" _He nodded some more and passed it back to Henry, rubbing at his eyes. _"Henry Spencer; get that child in bed."_

"What?" Henry asked. "Maddy – he's got the mind of a five year old, not the body," he said quietly. "He's not getting tired already."

"_Of course he is!" _She argued. _"I heard him yawn! And in his mind it's way past nap time!"_

"We never had a set nap time for him," he said.

"_Come on, Henry – you don't remember this stuff?" _She asked. _"If he got tired in the early evening we'd put him down for maybe an hour or two; usually just before his bath," _her voice was tinged with nostalgia and happiness; and she wished she was down there in Santa Barbara instead of in Texas.

"Okay, Maddy – I got it all covered," he said smoothly, before saying goodbye and putting the phone down. "See?" He said to Shawn. "I told you your mom would call," he looked around to see that Shawn had fallen asleep on the sofa. Cursing the fact that his ex-wife seemed to be always right, he looked at their guests. "Looks like it's nap time," he said to them, half-serious. "You should probably go."

They all nodded and left quietly, with Juliet reminding Henry that a) they should drop by the station tomorrow and see them, and b) that she was available for babysitting. He grinned as he closed the door. What a day. He started to gather up the paper and pens from the table and the dinosaur toys. Dropping them off in Shawn's room, he got the duvet from the bed and went downstairs, gently laying it on his son.

Going into the kitchen for a beer, he noticed the drawing Shawn had done of 'Zippy'. Studying it for a moment, he decided it looked like a five year old's, as Shawn was actually a decent artist. Hopefully his motor skills would improve, as the doctor had predicted.

He smiled some more and proceeded to pin it on the fridge.

**Aw, Henry has a heart ;) (Shout out to dvd commentary, yo!) Hope you enjoyed this chapter - I felt quite bad for Lassie in this, but bare in mind he **_**really **_**isn't good with kids ;) He still sees annoying Spencer :P So, yeah, review? :) **


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry guys, but I'm not going to pursue this story any more - I've completely lost the muse and when I started writing for another fandom, I just can't get back into this one.**

**I'm SO sorry, hopefully you will all forgive me; and I really hope none of you hate me for this :S**


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